


Control

by immortal7



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortal7/pseuds/immortal7
Summary: The world shifts once again and tragedy has struck the life of Scott Summers. A man who has buried most of his family at least once and come back from the dead himself to a changed world.  A trip to reevaluate his place in the world comes at the price of opening old and new wounds.  Set post New X-Men #154.
Relationships: Emma Frost/Scott Summers, formerly Scott Summers/Jean Grey
Kudos: 6





	Control

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea.

He stared out into the world from the cracked glass window frame. Completely loosing himself in the red of the setting sun. The other colors no longer mattering to him as he saw none of them. His curse. He never could see the world in the comforts of black and white like so many other people. Instead he was more focused in the beliefs of passion and destruction. He knew that the terrain in front of him was white. He knew that as the sun set into the horizon the view should make him blind from the black. He didn’t care. It was a rule much like how he lived his life. A never ending battle to hold on to the ideals of those who sought comfort in black and white perspectives even though they see every color he could not. 

He gave up contemplating the ways of the rest of the world and moved away from the window and sat down in the only chair in the room. This was his hide away from the villains and heroes of the world. He came here at least once every six months in the years past, but with the recent development in the world that hated him he had not been back to clear his thoughts since he had come back to the living. Yet, after all the troubles of becoming one of the last, he could not afford to not be here. He knew he had only a few days at most to clear his head in what should be weeks. So he would engage in the destructive nature that he held back every time he was out of sight of this small cabin. He would left all the masks he wore to the world drop and run on the extreme to counter balance the other side of his personality.

His first thoughts came down to the simple fact that if he had come back here he would still have his wife. He would still be the perfect couple that everyone leaned on to give them support. Instead he had betrayed her in the worst way he could ever imagine. Not even Logan a man whole lived his life on the edge of insanity could ever contemplate the thoughts that went through his mind as he let Emma Frost grasp his name as he threw her body on to the bed. Emma was for a time what this cabin was, a simple release. She could read his mind, but she would never know what she was to him. He ripped her clothes off and made sure she felt him as he slammed his body in to hers. She could scream for him to stop and he wouldn’t. She could cry in pain and it made him go that much harder. It didn’t matter if it was only a mental affair instead of a physical one. He treated her in ways that Jean had only fantasized about and could never take. 

Jean could take a bruise or a broken bone from a scrap, but in bed no matter what she said she wanted to be cuddled. She wanted to be treated like the queen he saw her as. He could never fault her for this as that is how he wanted her to be. She was the reason he got out of bed and strived to live his life in the black and white existence that rest of the world lived. He had held on to her for so long that the idea of even using her as anything else was unimaginable. He knew that if she was truly the one for him he would have allowed her to see all of himself, yet he just couldn’t taint her like that. Even if she already was. In his mind he could taint her like that. He would be the incorruptible leader who showed mercy on his foes for her. He would never kill. He would become the opposite of the spectrum that Logan had been in the early days. He knew that living like that was doomed to failure and to be truthful except for the minor scare with Betsy. he was surprised he had held on this long. 

He let his mind start to trickle down to the man who might be called his best friend. Even if neither of them ever admitted it. He had been a killer. A machine with no conscious, but one single purpose of destruction. Yet, Logan had slowly become his equal. The only difference was the man focused his life slightly on the other side of the line. They both saw the world for what it was, a unavoidable and unshakable hell in which most of the inhabitants stayed blinded by the truth. Logan knew just who he was, what he hid from the rest of the world. The simple fact that he had excepted his flashy and reckless moves when they infiltrated Genosha after he came back from his possession. Logan knew that he was not acting like Apocalypse, but more like he would without the mask. Logan even understood why he did struggle the way he did. Logan just acted more on the tendencies that the true rulers did. He never made any excuses about his behavior in general and lived to please himself first for the most part. Then came Jean. Both of them had strived to see the world in black in white for her acceptance. And in many ways they both had gained it. He knew that after being caught using Emma as a release she could have gone to Logan and the man would have accepted her with open arms just like he himself had in the early days. 

He got out of his chair and headed to the liquor cabinet in the corner and pulled out a bottle of whiskey he had been saving for an unrememberable amount of time. Maybe even as long as he had owned the small cabin. He twisted off the top and sipped straight out the bottle. He wondered just how far he was willing to go. Was the world worthy of being seen in the shades of black and white? Could he maintain the façade that he had created over the years now that once again his reason for keeping it was dead once again? The last time she had died he had almost lost himself until he met his first wife. Yet, even than he only changed his ways because she was a very close clone of his sanity. In fact he had even dumped the woman and his child to go straight back to the real thing. Only Alex knew that or at least held it against him anymore for basically making Nathan an orphan in his quest for control to see the world as order and not the helpless grasps of passion and destruction he saw it as, of the tint of red that covered everything. The Jack burned his throat and he threw the bottle straight wall and let the liquid drizzled down the wall. He grabbed his coat off the table and headed outside. 

The thoughts of the whole mutant world on his shoulders. He had to act like the stick up the ass man he had allowed the world to see if the mutants were to be saved. He had to be the leader and by his side was Emma. A woman who thought she started a mild affair because she had fallen in love, never to know she was a simple and easy to use target in which he could sometimes act kind of how he wanted to in his real life. It was not that he hated her, on the contrary he was actually starting to love her in a strange way. He felt a bit of the comfort when he woke up much like the feeling he had when waking up next to Jean every morning. She is more outgoing that Jean ever wanted to be consciously. She knew that she was never going to replace Jean in his mind and that made her different from all the others he had used in between Jean and Maddie except one. He knew she was just trying to crave a place for herself in his heart and maybe even be accepted by it. She never flinch at the glimpses of his mind like Jean had after the rebirth.

He stood in the snow confused at his behavior, even in the past he had never left his emotions play too much on his attempt of release. He screamed at the futileness of his attempts. He knew… he knew that maybe Apocalypses had messed with him more than he would admit, except to himself. He couldn’t seem to come to grips with himself as he paced in the snow. And for the first time since he had been ignored in the orphanage as a child he wondered if he would accepted. Could he let himself be complete, seen by at least one person? He turned and shifted the glasses on his face and leveled the cabin behind him. The place wasn’t working the way it used to. So it had no use to him anymore. He collapsed on the floor of snow and just let the red stream out of his eyes. It destroyed everything it touched. He let it continue until he felt he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. 

“Are you sure that you can stand being with me? Are you sure that this is what you want?” His screams echoing out in to the darkened sky. He didn’t do anything. Instead he just collapsed in to the snow, drained from unleashing such a large amount of emotion. He stayed in the snow exhausted until a figure walked to him and lifted him up and laid him down on the bed in the room that appeared in the landscape. The figure held him in his mind as he slowly turned himself off from the strain. He knew she had seen a lot of his most hidden thoughts. The thoughts that his attempts at control blocked from everyone. So the fact that she still held him gave him hope that maybe the aftermath wouldn’t be so bad.

Emma Frost sat propped up with pillows and the headboard. She had the head of Scott Summers in her lap and slowly caressed his hair as he slept. If one were to look at her she would have neither a smile or a frown on her face. Her face gave homage to the emotional mask she wore around their students. She had just helped that man in her bed grasp a small part of himself he tried to hide from everyone. She had motivated him to dig up thoughts he buried so deep it was alien to even himself. She knew he didn’t love her. She knew at first she was just a practice dummy to be battered with multiple uses. She didn’t even care that most of the staff called her a whore behind her back. She had grown on the man in lap and that was enough to push on. She even felt closer to him than any of his wives had ever been. He had never hidden anything from her like he had them. That was enough to believe in the end they would stay together and maybe even one day when he learned to accept himself she would be loved by him more than ether woman before her had. It would take years for Scott to take true control of himself in the way he pretended to. Yet, if anything was true of herself, Emma knew she could wait. Control would come and she would help push him up to be the man he wanted to be. Not for her, but for himself. Yes, she could wait for that much the same way she waited for the day he would say he loved her, after she said it to him. 

A/N Well hope you all enjoy my strange little stop in the mind of one Scott Summers. In all honesty I would love some feedback on this piece. I not too sure of it myself and would kind of like to hear other thought. I know Scott isn’t a liked character, but I like and often wonder what makes him tick. Any way review, flame, or just pass on to another piece your choice. Thanks for reading later. 

A?N part two. A small amount of revision as I decided to post this here. Nothing major partial to the fact I still like it and I don’t want to be a person who constantly fiddles with old works. I will say looking back is getting me in the mood to write again though. Hope you enjoyed.


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